


do you have to let it linger

by whyyesitscar



Series: but we're here now [1]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Multi, listen we all know peggy should have been in this movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 08:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18245909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyyesitscar/pseuds/whyyesitscar
Summary: in the wake of carol's crash, maria has to explain everything to a lot of different officials. only one of them seems to get it.





	do you have to let it linger

**Author's Note:**

> this is simultaneously very different from and more than what i expected it would be. i might be persuaded into coming back to it, if anyone had a prompt or two.
> 
> lyrics from the cranberries and 4 non blondes, everyone please enjoy!

_so I wake in the morning and I step outside_  
_and I take a deep breath and I get real high,_  
_and I scream from the top of my lungs, ”what's going on?”_ **  
**

/

**i.**

The clean-up starts immediately.

At the crash site, probably, but Maria doesn’t know much about that. She’s stuck at the base in a windowless room answering the same questions from at least five different people. None of them respond to _her_ questions about Carol, and that’s the first time things start sinking in. The murky feeling of dread that’s been floating in her chest turns into something real, dropping heavy into her ribs and continuing down.

Carol isn’t coming back.

Technically, it’s classified as an accident and that’s all they’ll tell her. One of the generals takes pity on her after a few hours and tells her they never found Carol’s body so technically she’s only missing. It’s not the comfort he intends it to be; the knot in her stomach twists on itself even more. _And what about Dr. Lawson_ , she follows up. _Is she ‘just missing’, too?_ He shakes his head.

Twenty minutes later, Maria has half a charred dog tag and a box of Carol’s things.

She’s ready to go home, to sit with her daughter and hug her through their shared heartbreak. But no one will tell her she’s free to go, and the door locks behind each person as they leave.

Maria has resolved to give them another minute before she tries to break out when the door opens again and a new person walks in. She rolls her eyes and slumps in her chair.

“I don’t have anything new to tell you,” she sighs.

“I’m sure you don’t,” a woman answers, “but I’d like to hear it anyway.”

Even if it weren’t for the British accent, Maria would know this woman wasn’t Air Force. She’s older, in her sixties at least, and tired enough in the way that all long-term military personnel tend to be. But she seems shrewder, more pragmatic than the cocksure pilots Maria has to deal with every day.

“You’re not Air Force,” she says in lieu of a greeting.

“No.”

“Army?”

“I...was,” she says after a moment. “Now I like to consider myself military-adjacent.”

“Okay.”

“Director Carter, by the way,” she says, cracking a small smile.

“Director of what?”

Carter folds her hands on the table between them. “What can you tell me about Wendy Lawson?” she asks instead.

“Not a whole lot,” Maria shrugs. “We just worked together.”

“I was a woman in the military long before you, Captain Rambeau, and there still aren’t many of us. You know more than you’re saying.”

Maria thinks a minute before responding. “I was proud to work for her,” she finally says. “Dr. Lawson had ideas, she wanted to change a lot of things. It was contagious, I guess.”

“That’s it?”

“To be honest, Director Carter, Dr. Lawson isn’t really the biggest thing on my mind right now.”

Carter reels a little at that—not a lot, but enough to notice. Maria watches how quickly she blinks her eyes, the subtle tightening of her lips. Her eyes, when they finally meet Maria’s, are working hard to hold a lot in. Shrewd, indeed.

“I have a little firsthand experience with this kind of loss, Captain. I’m very sorry about your friend.”

Maria takes the opportunity to inspect the table, flicking her fingernail over a rusted spot. “What’s your story?”

“A plane crash in the middle of the ocean, presumed dead without a body.”

“Never found anything?”

“Not for the last fifty years.”

Maria looks up. “You’re Peggy Carter.”

There had been whispers, once she was assigned to Pegasus, of other classified and secret projects. Carol never paid attention but Maria quietly listened, storing information for later in case she ever found herself in that kind of a situation. She knew the story of the super-soldier who sacrificed himself for the country and possibly the world. The other pilots—men, of course—talked about him with reverence, like he was a god. But Maria couldn’t shake her sadness for the woman he left behind.

She never thought they’d have so much in common.

“I really am very sorry,” Carter repeats. Maria appraises her for a long moment, wondering just how much she’s trying to say. “If you ever remember anything about Dr. Lawson, please reach out.” She slides a business card across the table. It doesn’t say ‘director’ anywhere on it, just her name and a phone number, but Maria knows she’s talking to someone very powerful and important.

Maria nods and waits, watching as Carter gets up and walks toward the door. It’s only when she touches the handle that Maria realizes she needs to know one more thing.

“Do you think you’ll find him somewhere?” she blurts. “Do you think he’ll ever come back?”

Carter heaves a sigh before setting her shoulders and turning around. “No,” she replies. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t hope.”

/

Three weeks later she and Monica are packing up the contents of their small house. The Air Force has sent her off with an honorable discharge, an exhaustive NDA, and enough money to ensure she complies with it. She could stop working with that kind of money, but what would she do instead? The only reason Monica doesn’t constantly dwell on Carol is because Maria keeps her schedule packed with school and dance and sports. If Maria didn’t have something to occupy her time, well—like mother, like daughter.

So they relocate to Louisiana and buy a large piece of land. Monica goes to school and the only planes Maria touches these days never leave the ground. They bury an empty box but a full one sits on a shelf in Maria’s closet, packed to the brim with photos and memories she only lets Monica peruse on her birthday. They remember the past but they never cling to it—

(—is what she tells Monica in those first few months. She doesn’t know that Maria has a leather jacket under her pillow for as long as she can bear it.)

Maria almost calls Director Carter more than a few times; not to reveal anything about Lawson but because she still has so many questions. Does it ever get easier, or less hard, or is this her life now, telling Monica her aunt isn’t coming back while spending every night hoping she’s wrong.

Hope is just as devastating as death, she learns.

The business card stays in her desk drawer for six years.

/

**ii.**

There’s no wreckage this time, but Carol crashes back into Maria’s life just like she left it. Everyone has questions and Maria steels herself to answer them again, but it’s different now. She’s got some leverage, and more than a little inside knowledge. Fury briefs her on S.H.I.E.L.D. and what it does, and dots start connecting in Maria’s head.

“Who’s in charge?” she asks after everything, after Carol leaves and Fury offers her a job. “Who’s your boss?”

“That’s two different answers depending on what you’re asking,” Fury replies. “I don’t report to the director.”

“Director Carter?”

Fury looks at her for a long moment, hands on his hips and good eye squinting. “How do you know Director Carter?”

Maria pulls on her jacket as she makes a quick call to her parents. She holds the phone with her shoulder and puts her hand up to Fury. He reluctantly tosses over his car keys.

“I’m not getting in any car that you’re driving, Scratchy,” she says as she hangs up, “but I want to hear that job offer again. From your boss this time.”

/

Fury’s office is probably nice, but Maria is certain it’s nothing compared to what she can only describe as the Director’s suite. She stuffs her hands in her pockets and looks around, half expecting to find a plush hotel bed.

“Nice digs,” she comments.

“There are a few perks when you’re director,” Carter says with a smile.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed they give you more stuff when they want you to talk less.”

That doesn’t garner a response but Carter doesn’t look offended either.

“I understand you originally rejected the job when Agent Fury offered it to you,” she redirects.

“This visit isn’t me accepting it. I just didn’t know before who Fury was getting his orders from.”

“Do you trust me more than him?”

“No,” Maria answers honestly. “But you probably have more answers than he does.”

Carter turns her attention away from Maria. “Agent Fury, would you mind—”

“I’ll grab a coffee or three; yeah, yeah,” he acquiesces. “Call me when you need someone to escort her out.”

Carter waits for the click of the door to start talking. “Have a seat, Captain.”

“I’m not a captain anymore,” Maria replies. She sits down anyway.

“You’re not really a civilian, either. What can I do to get you to change your mind?”

Maria shakes her head. “Nothing. I don’t really want to talk about the job.”

“And yet, here you are.”

Maria leans back into the couch, unfurling the tension from her shoulders and slinging an arm over the back cushion. Might as well take advantage of a comfy sofa while she’s here.

“Do you get a chance to talk about him often?” Maria asks softly. “Captain Rogers, I mean.”

Carter doesn’t look away. “Most people tend to avoid the subject.”

“Most people don’t—I don’t want to know about the crash, or even him really.” Maria heaves a large breath. She can't quite phrase what she _does_ want to know--what was he like (but not really); was it hard (of course it was); was it good to be with him. She wants to ask the kind of questions she wishes someone would ask her. At least Carter would probably answer them.

“Do you dream about him?” she asks instead.

Carter leans back and tilts her head. “Not as much as I used to, but I think I always will. I just wish he would age in my dreams. It's exhausting to cling to someone who looks perpetually rugged and twenty-something.”

“Tell me about it,” Maria chuckles.

“We reached out to a few of our contacts to learn about the Kree. She'll probably age much slower than a human, though we're not sure if that's because of her Kree blood or an effect from the explosion.”

“How much slower?” Carter hesitates and that's all Maria needs to know. “Great,” she huffs.

“You still have her,” Carter reminds her softly, “in whatever capacity she's able to give.”

Maria only blushes a little bit. “At least he might remember you,” she says as if they're trading hardship, as if it's something to win. But that’s what it feels like, as if she has to prove the extent of her grief because she can’t talk about how deep it actually goes.

“Are you bothered by the fact that Carol doesn’t remember everything, or is it more about what she doesn’t remember?”

Sitting suddenly isn’t an option. Maria gets up and strides over to the window. Is it a window if it’s also a wall? Sunlight glints off the buildings beneath and around her, and for a second Maria wishes she could tear them down. Humanity is infuriatingly tangible in the city.

“One of the first things I did after they made Steve was shoot at him,” Carter says from beside her. Maria tries not to jump. “They gave him a shield that was supposed to be impenetrable. But nothing’s impenetrable until you test it.”

“So you shot him.”

“ _At_ him,” Carter corrects. “I waited until he picked it up; he was fine.”

Maria smiles. “Carol and I were in the academy at the same time, got ourselves all the way to freeflying with the Wings of Blue. The first time we jumped together, I pretended my chute was broken after we finished our tricks. Carol doesn’t panic, but she did then.”

“Pretty mean trick for your first jump.”

“I knew when I had to pull it,” Maria shrugs. “We were fine.”

Maria can feel Carter grinning next to her.

“When I wasn’t dreaming about him,” Carter continues, “I used to be angry. Absolutely enraged, the kind of anger that makes you see stars. He had to have known, once he got into that plane, that he probably wasn’t coming back, and he did it anyway. But I loved Steve before he was a super soldier. If he was within a hundred feet of a fight, he always wanted to finish it.”

“The price of loving a hero,” Maria says. It’s the first time she’s really been direct about it with someone else, especially someone who knows what she’s really saying. She could almost cry from the relief.

“I’m sure Carol would say the same thing about you, were the situation reversed.”

“This job you’re offering—if I took it, would I see my daughter less?”

“Probably.”

“Would I see Carol more?”

“Probably not.”

“Then that’s not really much of a choice, is it?”

Carter hums her agreement, extending a hand. “Once again, if anything changes, don’t hesitate to call. And if you do, please—call me Peggy.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Maria flutters a lazy salute, just so they can laugh together. “Good luck with everything.”

The “you, too” that follows is quiet, but Maria appreciates it all the same.

/

**iii.**

Fifteen years later, Maria will finally use that business card. The number is different but the name is the same. Life has settled for her in much the same way—the years passed and only someone close to her would notice the subtle changes they seemed to gather. There were extras of everything in their house, clothes for when Carol could stay and chili in the fridge for when she couldn’t. They set the dinner table for three every night, just in case. Sometimes it was Fury who joined them, but it was always Carol’s place. Her visits got longer as time went on. Monica made them all take a picture before she left anyway.

But time passes and life goes on, and Maria only tangentially keeps herself informed on what’s happening at S.H.I.E.L.D. Carter retires and Fury works his way to the top, sporting an eyepatch and an air of cynicism she’ll never take seriously. And on a Wednesday in October, Maria watches the news as the rest of the world marvels at the man in the ice. The clock in her living room is ticking loudly.

Carol comes down the stairs while Maria is dialing the number. She raises a hand to signal quiet, but gladly steps closer when Carol wraps an arm around her waist.

The phone only rings once before it’s picked up.

Carol’s lips are warm on Maria’s temple, as if she knows what this call is, and Maria can only hope that she isn’t the only one who gets to feel this kind of comfort.

“Congratulations, Peggy.”


End file.
